A Light Touch
by JoaniexJony
Summary: John is struggling to recover from a serious illness, but help comes from an unexpected source...  In response to the pineapple challenge on GW.


This is in response to the pineapple challenge on GW. John is struggling to recover after a serious illness. As usual helps comes from an unexpected source...

Warnings:- None.

Disclaimer:- SGA still isn't mine.

And thanks to Sterenyk Strey for the speedy beta - you rock pet.

A LIGHT TOUCH.

John had felt fine when he'd woken up that morning, but the effort to put on his BDUs had left him shaky and exhausted.

His normally deft fingers were all thumbs, as he struggled to push the last button of his shirt into place. When he was done, he was surprised to find the hand he'd raked though his hair covered in beads of sweat.

This was so not good. His plan to convince Beckett to release him to light duty had already been dubious at best, but now John reckoned he would need to up the ante. It was going to take more than his game face, and a few glib remarks to fake the energy he didn't feel.

John was desperate to get back to work. The virus he'd contracted on Salmeda had taken hold with a vengeance and completely floored him. Within hours of leaving the planet, he'd come down with a high fever that lasted several days. His liver, kidneys, in fact all of his vital functions had started to fail and he thought he was a gonner, but Beckett got a handle on it just in time and pulled him back from the brink. At first he'd been glad simply to have survived. Now, after being laid up for what seemed like forever, John just wanted to get back to normal.

What his body craved was to crawl back under the covers for another five, maybe ten minutes, but John ignored it. Mind over matter forcing him to his feet, out the door and down the corridor, before he could change his mind. He hadn't gone far before his heavy limbs started to tremble, and by the time he reached his goal, he didn't think he could walk another step. Worse still, John saw the answer on Carson's face even before he got half way into the infirmary.

Carson pulled out a chair, and waved an arm towards it. "I think you'd better have a seat, Colonel. Take a few minutes to get your strength back _before_ you return to your quarters."

His heart was racing, and John could feel his freshly laundered shirt sticking to his body. From the concerned expression on Carson's face, he hated to think what he looked like. The speech he had prepared was on the tip of his tongue, but both men knew the game was up. All he could say was "Yeah…thanks."

The Scot pressed a glass of water in his hand, then pulled up a chair and sat down to face him. "Look…I know how frustrated you must be, son, but you will recover. It's only just over a week ago I thought we'd lost you. But here you are trying to convince me, that just because you can put on a uniform, you're fit to work." Carson smiled and shook his head in amusement. "I'm glad you have a fighting spirit, John. It certainly helped pull you through. But…that bloody virus has left you severely weakened, and you need to accept its going to take time to get your strength back."

"I guess…" John savoured the cold water as it cooled him down. And gradually, was relieved to feel his heart beat return to normal.

Carson took the empty glass from him, and after doing a quick check of his vitals patted his shoulder.

"There's no harm done, but you aren't going to help yourself unless you start eating right." At John's sheepish expression, the doc continued. "You lost weight you could ill afford to lose, Colonel, and my spies tell me that you've only been picking at your food." He leaned back on the chair and gave John a sharp look. "Plenty of rest, lots of fluid and three square meals a day are the only way you'll regain your strength son. Follow that regimen and you could be back to duty in a couple of weeks."

John nodded, and tried not to make it look he was struggling to get to his feet. Upright once more he felt a little better, but despite the doc's positive prognosis, he still didn't feel any better. The problem - he wasn't hungry. Everything tasted 'blah', if there was such a taste.

It didn't matter if it was the hot meal of the day, or even his usual favourite, turkey sandwich. They all tasted the same. The broth was worse – if that was possible, but now he knew that people were watching him, his visits to the mess were going to be a bigger ordeal than usual.

"What are you doing here?" Rodney appeared in front of the two men. "He's not having a relapse – is he, Carson?"

Carson shook his head. "No, Rodney. The colonel just thought he would pay me a social visit. Isn't that right, lad?"

"Yeah. I just wanted to stretch my legs. Get out of my quarters for a bit." John gave Carson a grateful look, as he didn't wanted to suffer Rodney's rants about dumb pig-headed Lt colonels, pushing their luck.

"A social visit to the infirmary...in your uniform?" Rodney glared at him suspiciously.

To circumvent any further questions, John quickly interrupted his team mate. "I was just heading to the mess. Do you want to join me?"

For a second Rodney was caught off guard. "Well…I was hoping Carson could check me out." Rodney put two fingers to his neck, and kept them there as he addressed the medic. "I was sitting in my lab when I started to feel a bit…you know…_funny_."

Carson and John exchanged a look, before the doc turned away and started to take the scientist's pulse. "Well how do you feel now?"

Rodney paused, as he seemed to consider the question. "Sweaty palms, erratic heart beat…"

"So…the usual then?" When Rodney fell silent, Carson dropped his wrist and took the chance to answer. "It sounds like your hypoglycaemia to me, so tell you what, son. Why don't you accompany the colonel to the mess, and I'll get the extra needles ready to carry out some tests when you come back."

The colour drained from Rodney's face. "Actually, Carson, I think you're right. In fact even the thought of something to eat is making me feel a whole lot better. C'mon, Sheppard, let's get going. We don't want to waste any more of Carson's time… " Hurriedly, Rodney grabbed John's arm and began pulling him away.

As they left the smiling medic behind, John zoned out Rodney's babbling about incompetent voodoo doctors, as a feeling of dread started to set in. He'd never been a big eater even as a kid, but he'd always enjoyed his food. After he'd got over the worst of the virus and started to eat again, at first he couldn't keep anything down. Now, every though the sickness had stopped ages ago, he still hadn't got his appetite back. Every meal was a challenge.

"Morning, Colonel." Kelly, the new girl, a Brit, was standing behind the counter when they walked in. John could see the usual selections, broth, salads, sandwiches and the hot meal of the day – meat loaf – but as usual nothing appealed.

"Would you like to try my pineapple upside down cake, Colonel?" Kelly smiled, and John could see her already cutting him a generous slice. "It's my mum's recipe. It was the only thing that tasted good when I got sick." She bent over the counter and whispered, in a conspiratorial voice, her dark eyes shining.

"Eww! Get that thing away from me – its poison!" Rodney yelled, his face twisting as he backed away from the offending cake, and loaded up his tray with a large helping of meat loaf, and two muffins instead.

John was mortified. He felt bad enough that his problem was already the talk of the base, but for someone to bake him a cake – he felt like a charity case. Still, she was a nice kid and he didn't want to hurt her feelings, so he just smiled and took the proffered plate along with some milk.

As Rodney tucked into the meatloaf, John drank his milk and tried not to look at his plate. Aware McKay was watching him, after a moments hesitation he dug his fork into the golden sponge, and had to admit the cake did look good. John lifted the mouthful towards him, watching as the pineapple started to drip onto the plate and before he could change his mind, quickly forced it into his mouth - it tasted delicious.

The combination of soft sponge and the sweet pineapple were the first thing to taste of anything since his illness. Not only that, but it was the best thing he'd ever eaten. His mouth was watering, as bite after bite he quickly demolished the helping. When it was finished he scraped around the bowl, only falling short of lifting up the plate and licking the remains. Rodney's mouth fell open, speechless, as John scraped back his chair and went for more.

Kelly was waiting with a wide grin. This time she gave him an even bigger piece, but also added some custard at the side. "I made this too…from scratch. There's nothing quite like home made when you're trying to get your appetite back."

John didn't even wait to leave the counter before he tried it out. He smiled as the warm, creamy yellow liquid touched his lips – it was awesome. This young girl had managed to make a simple thing like custard into a culinary delight. In John's eyes she was a life saver – his life. A bigger genius than McKay – at least in the cooking world. He grin grew wider, and for once he didn't care about the line forming behind him. "This…this is best thing I've ever eaten. How did you do it?"

She flushed with embarrassment, and John realised for the first time how pretty she was. "My mum says I have a light touch, but good fresh ingredients help."

"I don't suppose you have anymore of your mom's recipes? What ever you need just ask – I do have some clout around here" He winked.

She went all quiet as Kelly pushed back a stray black curl which had escaped her cap, with the back or her hand. John's heart sank when he wondered if he'd pushed his luck too far.

Then the pretty smile was back in full beam. "How do you feel about my special steak pie, followed by sticky toffee pudding?"

THE END.

Hope you liked this little fic, and please review.


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